


A Lot Like Rain, A Lot Like Thunder

by baeberiibungh



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Anger, Angst, Catatonia, Chronic Pain, Coping, Crying, Death of a loved one, Depression, F/F, F/M, M/M, Memory, Multiple Sclerosis, Sad, Steps of acceptance, Suicidal Ideation, Suicide, Tears, Will - Freeform, spasms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-24
Updated: 2015-11-27
Packaged: 2018-05-03 05:23:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5278304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baeberiibungh/pseuds/baeberiibungh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas leaves Dean a video containing his last words. Dean prepares to go through it...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Preparation

**Author's Note:**

> I have tagged as much of the stuff as possible, so please heed them, as the matter could be triggering to some.

Sam has left for the night, but Dean was sure that he will be back soon enough, to check on Dean, try to get him to eat something and heave him over to his bed, and if Dean gets too clingy, Sam will just sleep beside him then and hold him through the racking sobs, wet hiccoughs and blocked sniffles. Dean knew Sam would do that, and it would not be a mark against him, not for this. Cas had been a good friend of Sam as well, and as hard his leaving was on Dean, it had a profound effect on Sam as well. Jess had cried, as had Charlie, and they were friends Cas had made through Dean. It had been hard on everyone.

When Gabriel came by, the DVD case clutched in his hands, Dean had been sleeping, so he had handed it to Sam. Gabriel made some small talk, but his every movement had been brittle, as if with one touch, he would fall apart into pieces. Gabriel, the only brother Cas talked to, had been an honorary member of the Winchester household as much as Jo, Jess, Charlie, Victor and Cassie had been. So when Gabriel stood up to leave, Sam went on instinct and hugged Gabriel. Gabriel went still in is arms before hugging back as hard and his huge sobs ended up waking Dean up. 

After calming down, Gabriel talked. He talked for a long time. His disgust at his estranged family, at the parents who would not even come for the funeral of their youngest son because he was gay, at the elder brothers, prim and proper who didn’t deem it necessary to even call and ask, or even the little sister who was on some cruise, even she, came out in fisted hands and raised voice while he glared at the wooden table. Gabriel also said how Lucifer called from the state penitary, and tried to come any way he could. He was ashamed of his fucked up family and very sad at losing his youngest brother and he had no one to tell these things to, no one to remember Cas and miss him and love him still.

It had been an exhausting evening and after a solemn dinner where Sam tried to feed Dean some soup, Gabriel told Dean about the DVD. It was then that Dean started crying again. Gabriel let himself out with a grim bow at the huddled brothers and walked out. The next few days were bad with Dean holding the DVD and refusing to let it go. Sam was almost at the end of his tether, when Jo and Charlie came over and he took a breather. It took quite a bit to calm down Dean and by then everyone was tired. 

A week or so after that, Dean informed Sam that he was going to watch it. Maybe, maybe, it won’t be too difficult to watch. Sam felt a bit reluctant, thinking that Dean could do with some more days to face it, but he didn’t say anything. It was one more month before Dean actually sat with his laptop on his lap, Cas’s favourite blanket wrapped around him like a warm cocoon and put the DVD in. Taking a long breath, Dean clicked the video and it opened on their chair, a find that Cas brought from a flea market, with the sunlight streaming behind it. It made everything look halo-ey. Then Cas walked into the frame. 

He was wearing Dean’s old blue tee with drawstring pants that lay low on his hips. Dean immediately stopped the video and tried to snap out from his almost panic attack. That tee got burned during a kitchen incident more than 6 months ago. The fact that Cas had been contemplating what he did since then, the fact that Dean did not even realise, did not even notice, make his breath punch out in punishing gasps as he held his head in his hands. Cas already knew then, and Dean didn’t.

He had to get up and away and walk around the empty apartment, his hands clenching and unclenching in the empty air. He kept pulling in big heaving breathing of air, that was making him feel a bit light headed. He was also feeling something hot and live stirring under his skin that was lighting up his nerve endings in muted fire. Dead suddenly found he was furious, unbelievably furious, at Cas, at the callousness he had shown Dean by planning this for months, the failure to trust Dean with his thoughts, his ability to actually leave Dean.

It was as if a fuse was lit. His head was felling both light and as if some big vice was squeezing it into one fourth of its size. His lips were pulling back into a sneer and he was making growling noises from his throat as he felt the idea slam into him about rending everything that Cas has ever touched, shredding each piece of clothing Cas had ever wore, breaking every piece of furniture that Cas had ever used. His hands were making slight slashing movements by his side, as his eyes went fever bright and he set out to destroy everything that was in the room.

When Sam returned home, it was to find the living room completely obliterated, the laptop laying on its side, still magically intact under the upturned coffee table that used to hold a few magazines, the TV leaning against the wall on one side with a hole through the middle into its internal wires and contraptions and everything broken into the tiniest parts possible. In the middle of it all, near the sofa that was slit in places and pushing out stuffing, lay Dean, curled on his side, a blank look on his face and blood on his hands. 

With a broken cry on his lips and a hard hammering heart, Sam dashed over to Dean to check on him. His finger nails were broken on all fingers and possibly one finger broken, Bruises on his cheek and his lips bitten through. His eyes were dazed and filled up to brim with unshed tears but none spilled and his breathing was slower than usual. Sam called 911 and Jess, in that order and had to stand by when the emergency workers wrapped his brother and took him away in a stretcher. He actually had to cry when everyone left, looking around at the destruction that Dean had left and what he would have done if Dean had gone the way of Cas.

He picked up the laptop, and opened the DVD drive, pulling out the one left by Cas. Sam debated if he should perhaps destroy it entirely, given how Dean had reacted to it and thus perhaps would not be watching again. But then at the last moment he decided that he will just leave it to Dean. Sam cleaned up everything as best as he could, and when Jess finally reached, both started pushing the things that had somehow managed to be intact after the rampage back into their place. 

Dean had to stay in the hospital for two days, the doctors insisting that they keep him over in precaution. He had had an episode and had been almost catatonic when the paramedics brought him in. He was better by the time he stepped out of the hospital, leaning heavily on Sam and his hands bandaged in thick swathes of white gauze. Dean tried to make a few feeble jokes, but they were not very successful. They reached home, Dean said sorry about the stuff he had broken and promised to replace everything. He ended up having to go back to the hospital within two weeks after another episode and he was referred for vehement therapy with aggressive medication. All of this led to Dean never getting around to seeing the DVD, which Sam informed Dean was in his possession, till one week into the first anniversary of Cas’s death. 

After assuring Sam that he had a much more better handle on his emotions, Dean sent him away for the evening with the promise that he would call if he needed and would not hesitate. This time, Dean went to his room instead of staying in the living room, opened the windows and sat in the same chair that Cas had sat in for his last words. After sitting in the high backed chair, Dean put the laptop on his bended knees with his feet placed on the bed and clicked the video. Dean had made Sam save a copy somewhere so that in case he ends up breaking his DVD, he will still have a record of Cas’s words. 

He still had to hold his breath when Cas came into the frame wearing his old blue tee, his face looking so tired (However did he ever miss that) and looked into the camera. Then he gave a sunny smile, the one he reserved for only Dean it seemed and Dean could feel himself tearing up. He did not look away and saw Cas say, “Hello Dean.”


	2. Explanation

Cas sat down on the chair and Dean wrapped a hand unconsciously over it, mimicking the movement Cas made over its arms. Cas looked very tired and ill, like he had just gone through one of his attacks. Dean knew they were getting worse, Cas always rattling in his body while the body conspired to drive him out of his mind. The pills were not helping much and it was escalating at a degree that Cas would have turned into an invalid soon enough. Cas pushed his hands through his hair, stood up and went out of the frame.

There was a break there of 2 seconds, and then it was the chair again, with Cas stepping into the frame later. He was wearing the same tee, but his pants were different and the slant of the shadows behind him not to mention the angle of the sunlight streaming in was different from before. Dean assumed it was a different time than the first one. Cas was looking better today, the bags under his eyes not that prominent. The shakes localised to his hands and one thigh in deep shivers every now and then. He also looked happier.

“Hello Dean,” said Cas. He had on his gummy smile, imagining Dean at the other end of the video. His smile slowly fades away. Now he looks almost sad. He says, “Dean, if you are seeing this, then, I have already... I, I am gone. That I took the final step. That i could not bear any more.” Cas bites his lips in obvious distress before blurting out, “I am so sorry Dean. So, so sorry. If you are seeing this than I have given up, I failed you and myself, and for that I am sorry from the bottom of my heart.”

Cas pulls himself back a bit here, squares his shoulder and says, “Today is March 17, 20**.” Dean gasps at that. That is today’s date, albeit two years old. Cas made the tape one year prior to his death. This hits in another new way at Dean. So long, planning for so long and he didn’t see. 

On the screen, Cas says, “This is my living will, my final words with regard to my body and belongings and my farewell to my friend and lover. This is my explanation for what I am going to end up doing. I assume you already know why I chose to do it, how I am having difficulty in coping, everything, but in case it is unclear, I will tell you everything. First thing though, you are not at fault. This is my doing, this is something I planned and perhaps executed. And if I end up being brave enough to wait for science and science answers in turn, maybe we are looking at this together, and laughing about the time I tried to die.”

Cas takes a few breath, glances away from the camera and says, “I am in pain Dean. The ceaseless movements that no longer disturb you, the nights I must lay under the hot shower so that my muscle relaxes enough to take the five steps to the bed and how whenever you find me there, you join me and hold me while I shake and clatter in the space you make between your arms. My eyes are usually full of tears by then, and I don’t say anything, but you know, you don’t let go easily and not too tight either and the pain doesn’t ease, it doesn’t lessen, but I find myself able to bear it better.”

“I am always able to bear it better when you are near me, no judgement on your face. I think it is one of the best things about you, how you have no opinion about me and my disease. My parents wanted me to be kept under a tight blanket of medication, drooling into the blankets that covered my weak body that saw hardly any sunlight or was subjected to any kind of kind look. Dean I don’t believe in religion, not in a god that is omnipresent, but I am, I will always be thankful for the fact that I got to meet you, for however long I can, however long you want me.”

“But I am finding it more and more difficult to even try. My body feels like it is on fire, while I am awake and nothing touching me. Like lava under my skin, tingling and abrading somehow from inside, burning off my nerves, making me unable to perceive touch, feel the air, anything really, except the clothes on my body which has to be loose and ill fitting or they catch, and the body itself. It won’t stop moving Dean, it won’t even when I want to, even when I try to hold my breath for a minute to see if it has any effect. I don’t own my body but I belong to it and I can’t get away.”

“Dean, the tingling and burning sensation gets so intense that I can’t feel anything but my hands, as if it is vibrating on an atomic level, shaking and shaking and I, I can’t stop and someday I feel like I will never be at peace, at ease, ever be still. Sometimes I feel almost like myself again, some parts shaking under the clothes in a low enough movements that I can pretend that I am maybe sitting in a car or train. I feel well those days, I feel like I can take the reins of my life again and stop derailing. Those are the days I kiss you Dean,” says Cas with a fond smile at the camera.

Dean sobs, slight gasps that blur his eyes and makes snot drip from his nose to his lips and his ears go red. But he doesn’t pause the video or stops it, and listens to everything Cas has to say.

“The doctors have said that the disease is progressing at an alarming rate. Ha Ha. I also may have early onset arthritis, as if MS was not enough, as if it was not enough to break me with it. Some days I remember the lessons my father gave and the stories mother told and wonder if this is my punishment. Rejecting God and all that. I guess I will be going to hell anyway, so why fight, I at least have going on for me. That reminds me, I don’t want a burial. I want a cremation. Take my ashes and throw it away. I do will not belong there anymore. I know that you will remember me and that is enough.”

Cas smiles again then. He says, “Dean, I am leaving all of my books and research material to Sam and Jess. They, they will know what to do with you. To Charlie and Jo I leave my seaside cottage, the only place I won, with the stipulation that you have the freedom to go anytime, and ... and with anyone. To Victor, I leave my car. His is even more crappy than mine. To Cassie, who knew you before me and perhaps loves as much, I leave half the money in my account. It is not much, but I hope she uses it for Nola. Baby stuff are expensive and they grow so quickly.”

“To Gabriel I leave everything that Lucifer gave me before he went in. I hope I get to see Lucifer once more. To the rest of my family I leave them the knowledge that their distancing from me did not prove my small worth, but that I am capable of love much more than them. I also leave them my numerous awards and certificates that held more of a place of respect among their walls and cupboards than I myself. Whatever pleasure they find from them are up to them. To Lucifer I leave my diaries. Tell him I loved him, he never gets to hear it enough. The other half of money I want to be donated to charity, for groups that do not discriminate, that help all and help the weak and abandoned the most.”

Here Cas looks pensive again. How daunting it must have been, to list all of his wishes so categorically, with the knowledge that it was to come to be only after his death. Cas looks back at the camera and says, “I will try to leave a written will cataloguing all of these stuff as well and leave it in Gabriel’s hands along with this video. And last, and never the least, my most beloved, I leave you my remaining days and my love. The more days, hours, minutes away from today’s date I actually die, those have been gifts possible only because of you. I will hold on as long as I can, for I want you and these days and hours and even minutes with you and I will fight, I swear I will.”

“If I do lose Dean, it is not your fault. It is not. And please know that I have never loved any other being in my love as much as I have loved you. I am sorry if and when I give in. I am sorry. But I will love you till the last breath my body can hold. That it can and will do and, thank you for loving me too Dean,” Cas finishes with swimming eyes and a smile that looks genuine except that it looks wrong somehow, because he is still so sad. But the love he talks about, it comes through so brilliantly that Dean can do nothing else but hug himself and cry, cry for his dead lover, for the way fate conspired against them and it’s like the tears will never stop, they will never cease, and Dean suddenly feels a light hand on his shoulder but when he turns, there is no one there.

Dean hiccoughs into his hand and looks at the laptop he placed on the bed. His eyes are blurred, but he can still see the paused frame of Cas’s face and more tears come, and they feel liberating for some reason, like he is finally letting his sadness out for real. He cries for a long time and when Sam comes home, he just pulls Sam to sleep beside him and keeps staring at Cas. He falls asleep like that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I researched MS for this, but in case I made some mistake, please tell me so that I can correct it. Thank you for reading. The last part will be a memory thing FYI.


	3. Reverberation

The sun fell in the dappling shifts over the blanket that hid the couple. Dean was sleeping on his side, one of his hands half curled near his pillow, the other barely lying on Cas’s waist. Ca was on his side as well, his body bent so that he was positioned away from Dean from his waist up. His legs were turtle up and his toes poking at Dean’s thighs. Dean woke up with a slight start when a car backfired before their building loudly. He slowly opened his eyes and looked around with a fuzzy gaze. When he saw Cas scrunched down into the bed, he gave a fond smile and shuffled closer to him, bracketing his whole body. 

Dean liked how Cas smelled in the bed. An underlying hint of tang of tang and salt, for Cas tended to sweat even at the height of winter. His hair smelled like dried pressed flowers, dusty and crumbly somehow. Best was his neck that smelled warm, somehow, and almost undiluted Cas. Cas was usually completely still in his sleep, with the odd elbow and shake every now and then, but that was OK. Dean loved Cas and managed to like him at any moment, something that used to make Sam frown as if it were a huge puzzle or very very difficult to comprehend. Trying to empty his head, Dean crushed Cas to his chest and nuzzled at his neck, pulling in deep breaths of his scent.

Cas woke to a humanoid shape cat that was intent on inhaling his whole neck. He squirmed, as his neck was a bit sensitive and prone to make him giggle. Dean glomped on him in return and Cas started to struggle more, just swishing on the bed, shoving his body to and fro, of his one making, his nerves thankfully quite. Dean increased the pressure of his hands for a second, before letting go, his hands now lying limply over Cas’s chest. Cas took the opportunity to turn in the small space he was smooshed in and look at Dean’s face. Dean was looking at him with a lazy smile without opening his mouth and his eyes very fond. Cas leaned forward and placed a close mouthed kiss on his lips, before burrowing into Dean’s chest again.

With their mouths in different direction, Dean said, “I love mornings like this, all sunny and bright.”

“I like rainy evenings more,” Cas mumbled back, his voice muffled a bit.

“Yeah?” Dean asked.

“Yeah,” Cas said with a slight nip of his teeth on Dean’s collarbone.

Dean rumbled a soft laugh and asked with his laughter still moving his mouth, “Why?”

“Because you are like rain. You smell like it too, earthy and metallic, and persistent and soft and with the potential to tower and rage and level everything out. You are the rain on my parched face and my thirst breaker. I love rain as much as I love you I think,” Cas says, his voice clearer this time, for he tipped his face lower so that his mouth is not obstructed.

Dean is floored by the explanation. He feels almost at a loss at the face of such clear bright love, and a part of him is still in ceaseless shock that Cas loves him, loves him so much. He tips his head down and puts a kiss on Cas’s head before saying, “If I am your rain, you are my thunder, brilliant brightness in my dark nights, sparkling presence in my lousy days and the one’s whose voice grounds me, turning the whole world insignificant. You are proof for me that I am good for I have you and deserve you and I love you the most in this whole wide world.”

Cas blushes, Dean can make it out with how Cas’s face heats near his heart. He says in a voice that is pleased, “Don’t tell Sam that he will cry.”

With another kiss to his head, Dean hugs him and whispers, “I won’t.”

Years later and after Cas, Dean would remember that morning with an aching pull on his heart. At first the memory would destroy his whole day, his yet unhealed self still hurting from loss. And the damning thing was that it was weird thing that made him remember. Rain and thunder made him melancholy as it was, and when he remembered that sunny morning ages ago, his eyes would prickle and his nose would feel runny and he would press his lips shut harshly while he pulled in broken breaths. Sam in fact came to know that something triggered him when it came to rain and thunder.

With time however, it became one of the best memories he ever had about Cas. It also came with the forgiveness he felt towards Cas and himself. And on rainy evenings, with thunder rumbling low and threatening, Dean would pour himself a hot cup of cocoa, just the way he liked it in Cas’s favourite cup, his favourite blanket over his shoulders and sip it in tandem with the falling rain as he looked on through the window while sitting in his chair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetaed. Thank you for reading. Kudos and comments please.

**Author's Note:**

> Unbetaed. Thanks for reading. Comment please!


End file.
